Promiscuous Lies (Vengeful Lies #2)

40. Posie

CHAPTER 40

Posie

T he food was amazing—so much so that when we walked out, I was tired. My food coma was fully activated.

Dutton rests his hand on my lower back as he leads us to his car. But instead of opening the passenger door, he opens the back door. I smirk l ike old times.

Climbing in, he sits and then taps the seat next to him. I don’t know when things between us started becoming more than sex, but his proposing marriage was so out of the blue that I immediately shut him down. Especially when he said he did it because his father suggested it. It’s nice to know I’m liked by his family, but I refuse to let myself and Bentley be some side prize. Dutton might not take marriage seriously, but I do. Sex, however, we can both agree on.

I smile as I climb in after him. When I shut the door, the lights go out, and it’s dark. I know no one in the restaurant will see us through the tinted windows. He grabs me and pulls me onto his lap so I’m straddling him.

“So no talk about…” he says.

“Marriage,” I finish for him as he slides his hand between us and straight up my dress. His fingers dance over the lace of my underwear. I untuck his shirt and slide my hands up his toned stomach and chest. Dutton has the best body I have ever felt or seen, and every time I touch him, I feel like a feral animal in heat.

“Then tell me what you want,” he says and slips a finger under my panties. “What about talk of us seeing each other more?”

I gasp as he brushes against my clit, and I start moving my hips at the slight friction. I hate when he uses sex against me because if I’m not honest in these moments, he’ll punish me and refrain from giving me an orgasm. Truthfully, these times are when we have the most honest conversations. But all of this talk of marriage has given me whiplash. I don’t even know if Dutton understands what he’s asking.

I claw at his chest, and he moves in and touches my lips with his. I love the way he kisses me, so soft and tender as if I might break, but then fucks me with his fingers and treats me like I’m a bad girl. It’s the perfect combination.

“You already see me a lot. More than I see anyone else, apart from Bentley,” I tell him as he pulls back. His hands slip from under my dress and move to undo the buttons at my chest, exposing my breasts. He leans in and kisses between them, glancing up at me through his lashes.

“I want to see you more.”

“You sound needy.” I smile at him. How does this man think to propose marriage before seeing one another more regularly? Then again, from what I’ve heard, he hasn’t dated anyone, let alone had a serious relationship, and that terrifies me. What if I’m just a phase for him? I have so much going on in my life already; I don’t know if it’s worth taking a risk on a man who has only ever had to think about himself.

“I am,” he purrs as I reach for his trousers and undo them. Freeing his cock, I lift up onto my knees and position myself over him. He looks down as I grab his cock and guide it to my entrance, pushing my underwear to the side. “For you,” he adds just as I lower onto him.

When he’s fully seated, filling me up, I start to rock back and forth, craving the friction. He grabs my ponytail and tugs my head back, exposing my throat. I’m forced to lean back, my hands bracing on his knees, as I ride him. “That’s it, baby. Fuck me. Show me how much you want this cock to fill you up.”

I can’t reply, barely able to breathe, as his other hand starts rubbing my clit, providing even more friction. His mouth finds my breast, and he sucks.

Fuck me.

“Look at me,” he growls. And I do as he says, awkwardly staring down at him as I ride him. “See how I worship you. Only you .”

My heart flutters, and I increase my speed, trying to distract myself from the confusion that is Dutton Taylor. He releases my hair and lets me take the lead, as if aware by the way my body speaks that I’m trying to gain control of this situation. Because I don’t know how to read Dutton. I don’t know why, all of a sudden, he’s talking about dating and marriage when we’ve only discussed obedience and fucking.

It’s the first time Dutton has ever let me take control instead of forcing me into submission, and I ride his cock like it’s my lifeline. I fuck him so hard that I see stars. After I explode and start to come down, he grabs my hips and continues rocking me, not stopping until both of us are done.

Struggling to breathe, I lay my head on his chest, finding comfort in the man who is just as confusing to me as he is lethal. And I know I should’ve run away from Dutton the moment I realized he wanted me. But he makes me feel safe. And that wreaks havoc on my independence. Won’t he just leave me like everyone else has?

I can’t risk that for Bentley or me. We can’t become attached to someone who will eventually throw us to the side.

“Move in with me,” he says and kisses the top of my head.

I can’t rely on something that might be temporary, nothing but promiscuous lies.

Eventually, this man might be my downfall, and I don’t have the strength to pick up the pieces again.

“No,” I reply, not moving. I can feel him watching me as I stare at his chest, avoiding his gaze. Because I know that’s when Dutton always sees me. The real me. The truth and the hurt. And I’m not willing to let him see the uncertainty, scared he’ll use it to his advantage in some way.

“I have to go relieve the babysitter. Thanks for dinner and dessert,” I say, finally raising my head and kissing his lips. I attempt to crawl off him, but he pulls me back and kisses me again. Forcing his tongue into my mouth and forcing his dominance upon me. I moan, so used to melting into him that I have no choice but to depend on his breath to keep me sane. Gosh, how I love his kisses.

Managing to pull away, I smile at him and place a hand on his cheek. “You’ve become needy.”

“Stay at my place tonight,” he says.

“Take me to my car, Mr. Taylor. That was our deal.” This time, I don’t allow him to pull me back. I climb off him and readjust my clothing before I climb into the passenger seat.

I’m so confused as to what he wants from me.

We’re good at sex. But moving in together, dating, marriage? It has no rhyme or reason. I look at him as he gets behind the wheel. Part of me wonders if this actually has anything to do with Bentley and me or everything to do with his family’s opinions. Or even worse, the mention of Bentley’s father.